


Becoming Thane

by cecania



Series: The Lowlander [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Avvar Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecania/pseuds/cecania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clan is in turmoil, the Thane is dead and the gods have chosen a new leader. (Set ten years before the events of The Lowlander)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Thane

**Author's Note:**

> While raexmell was doing the fantastic giveaway prize for me of Avvar Cullen, she brought up the idea for the tattoos and it was such a brilliant idea I had to run with it. This is long overdue because I’m slow at writing D:

 

            Walking slowly through the hold, Cullen tried to be as quiet as he could. It was early, the sun was barely even cresting the mountains and the clan was asleep around him. But he hadn’t been able to sleep at all. He’d sat up through the entire night, first in the room he shared with Branson before moving to the table in the main area of the house. It had been over a year since his father had sat at the head of that table but it was still habit to avoid his chair to make sure it was vacant if he came home.

            Not that he would be anymore.

            He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He needed a clear mind and thoughts of Teo were not going to help him be calm. Not after what had happened. Both of their parents dead when they should have had decades before them still. Taken cruelly from them by gods that didn’t-

            “No,” he muttered, shaking his head sharply. Now was definitely not the time. Not when he was going to receive the gods’ blessing for his rule as Thane.

            His father had never done this, had told him that without an augur there wasn’t anyone to mark his skin. Even when the Hawkes had come he had still refused. He was already Thane and he would rule for as long as the gods decreed. He didn’t need or want the marks.

            Only Cullen had known that he had never wanted them for the simple reason that he had never wanted to be Thane.

            Cullen knew that some had whispered that it was blasphemy and was the reason Teo’s rule had only lasted a little over a year. Of course no one said anything about it when he or his siblings were nearby but he knew it was said. What had happened to put Teo on the throne was still fresh in their minds as was everything that had happened up until this point. It would stay there for a long time.

            Taking another deep breath, he started forward again. He needed to find Hawke. He knew that she would have been up all night, communing with the gods to determine what kind of rule he would have.  He just wasn’t sure if she’d be in the augur’s home or with the older woman who was going to put the marks permanently into his flesh.

            His breath shivered out of him at that. He had always known that the tattoos were a part of becoming Thane, a sacred ritual that had been handed down from the Mountain Father and the Lady herself. He had just thought that he would have more time to prepare before it was his time to do it.

            A throb went through his shoulder, a dull ache that spread down his arm. Reaching up, he gently rubbed the skin before stopping as it only made it worse. The wounds went deep and were barely healed, even with Hawke using her magic on him. They were going to scar but she had dealt with the damage done to the lower levels of his muscles and chided him for worrying about the scar tissue that was going to form.

            _“You’ll still have full mobility of your sword arm, Cullen. What are a few scars when you got out with your life? And your brother’s? I think a few lines in your flesh are small price to pay for what you were given.”_

_“The cost was still higher than it should have been.”_

_A long pause. “He’s with both the Lady and his lady, Cullen. It’s what the gods decided and now it’s your turn to lead them, to lead all of us.”_

_“I never wanted this,” he muttered. “I was never born to be this.”_

_“Clearly you were,” she corrected. “Or we wouldn’t be here right now.”_

Here meaning him becoming Thane. Which wouldn’t happen today if he didn’t find Hawke before the sun completely crested the mountains.

            Lengthening his stride, he went straight for the augur’s cabin. It was set slightly apart and was one of the few areas that had a full garden attached to it, for herbs that didn’t grow in abundance on the mountain side. It hadn’t been tended to in over a year, not since the last Avvar augur had died. Malcolm hadn’t had time for a simple, small garden, not when he’d been tasked with healing their gods and the lands their farms sat on. It had taken everything he had just to do that. Olivia…Olivia was no older than he was and she didn’t have time for a garden as well. Not when there were still so many other things that required her attention.

            But the closer he got to the hut, the clearer it was that she wasn’t there. Which meant she was with Anya and they would be waiting for him. Strapping iron to his backbone, he kept walking past the quiet house and went looking for the pair that were going to change his life.

            Anya’s home wasn’t far from the augur’s and when he got there he could already smell the herbs on the air. They were ready. His hand hesitated on the door, his gut roiling. There was no turning back from this. Accepting those marks wasn’t just taking them into his skin, it was taking the clan into his care. It meant that he was going to dedicate himself to making sure that they survived no matter what. As soon as he opened that door, there was no walking away from it.

            Cullen nearly shook his head at himself. No. He already couldn’t walk away, not unless he wanted to abandon his clan. The choice had already been made, the gods had chosen him to be Thane.

            Pushing the door open, he heard the quiet conversation die and both women looked up at him. He wasn’t sure what to think as they didn’t say anything as he walked in, the door closing whisper soft behind him.

            “Cullen,” Hawke said quietly, rising from her crouch to face him. “You’re ready?”

            He nodded but he could feel his palms sweating. “I am.”

            She smiled faintly before waving him forward. Anya had already moved to sit to the side. She wouldn’t be needed until Hawke was done tracing the marks onto him. For now, she would make the ink to ensure they didn’t run out.

            His brows drew together slightly as he saw how many pots she had on the table. Was that normal? He’d never been present for this before so he wasn’t sure how much was used. Perhaps it was just a precaution.

            He wished he knew more about this, wished he had asked more questions because that time was gone now. He swallowed hard when Hawke pointed to a spot in front of her. This was it. He slowly moved to the spot, walking around the fire until he was before her. He wasn’t sure about the way she was looking at him, her eyes lingering in several spots. “Hawke?”

            When her eyes came back to him, the shine in them had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the god she had bound herself to for this ritual. But she didn’t say anything, she simply spun her finger slowly in a circle.

            Turning so his back was to the augur, he hooked his fingers into his shirt and hauled it over his head. He draped it over one of the two chairs set near where he was and tried not to think about how long he was going to be sitting in that chair once Hawke finished her task.

            A shiver wound through him when he felt icy cold fingers touch his shoulder. “Stay still, Cullen,” Hawke said quietly.

            Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing and not the cool fingers sliding over his skin. She was marking him with magic, her touch guided by the god. It was by the gods’ decree that he ruled and they would dictate that life onto his skin through her.

            It was hard not to pay attention to where her fingers were going, leaving a trail of white paste in her wake. It numbed the skin in preparation of what was to come and was easily wiped away while the tattoo was being put on him. The sharp swirls down his arm didn’t surprise him, he hadn’t met a Thane that didn’t have the marks signifying that they would fight in battles to keep hold and clan safe. They curled around his bicep and down to his elbow before she stopped.

            He wanted to look down, to see what the swirls had started to look like but he kept his eyes shut. He would see soon enough.

            Listening as she moved around to the front of him, he twitched slightly as she drew over his upper chest, her strokes getting longer as they curled around his nipple. She was efficient, drawing what felt like sharp lines with broader curves and he stopped trying to keep track after a few more strokes. It was too intricate for him to keep up without being able to actually see it.

            “Lift your arm, Cullen.”

            He did, giving her access to his ribs which she took advantage of almost as soon as he raised it. She was working on the heart side…he was going to do something momentous for the clan? But whether it would be for good or ill, that was yet to be seen. The gods never dictated which direction those would go, let the Thane themselves lead as they would. But he wasn’t so certain he was going to do anything that the clan would remember fondly, not after the year they had had.

            She worked for a long time, tracing the shapes not only onto the front of his ribs but along the back as well. They arched toward his spine, never quite reaching it but trying their best to. He lost track of time as she worked, her touch oddly soothing despite the fact that he knew she was marking him for needles.

            His stomach jumped when she kept going lower, arching the swirls out past his hip toward his navel before she paused. “What is it?” he asked when she didn’t move for a long minute. “Are you done?”

            “No. You need to take off your pants.”

            Cullen’s eyes popped open. “What?” he demanded, taking a small step back from her.

            Her head tipped to the side, her gaze curious at his resistance. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen it before, Cullen,” she murmured. “And the gods demand it.”

            “No.”

            Hawke pulled back slightly. “No? You’re rescinding your claim to being Thane? You’re telling me and Anya that you no longer want the title that the gods have chosen for you?”

            “No, I….” He blew out a breath, looking away from her. But he wound up looking at the ink pots. There were more on the table and he knew why now. “Why?” he asked lowly.

            “You know the meanings behind the marks, Cullen. Everyone does.”

            “They won’t leave it alone if you do that,” he muttered. “They won’t leave _me_ alone.”

            “It won’t matter. I doubt you’d have any of them.”

            He looked back at her. She was watching him almost owlishly, no doubt the god inside of her confused by his resistance. Had any before him protested like this? Had any of them even cared to? Marks below the hips…were sexual in nature, declaring that the Thane’s line would be fruitful and, more importantly, endure. There wasn’t an eligible woman in the hold that wasn’t going to take one look at the placement of that tattoo and think of how it could benefit her if she could just get him to pick her to carry his child, to continue his line.

            “The gods have a plan, Cullen,” Hawke said. “Do you trust them?”

            That was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? Did he trust the gods that had unfairly taken both of his parents from him? Did he trust the gods that had nearly taken his younger brother as well? Did he trust the gods that had become twisted after the last augur was killed, warping into demons that had nearly destroyed their hold? Did he trust the gods that had brought the Hawkes to Sky-Bear Hold and made things simultaneously better and worse?

            She knew how he felt. They’d shared confidences long before she’d become augur for his father. She knew what worried him, knew what ate at him, knew exactly how to push him to do what he needed to. She was a strong augur despite seeing only twenty winters. She was no older than him and she had accepted her role without complaint.

            He let out a harsh sigh before he kicked off his boots and worked on the ties of his pants. The only thing that made it any better was that Hawke didn’t smile, barely reacted so at least he wasn’t completely embarrassed by the situation.

            His cheeks still coloured when her fingers reached out to sweep over his hip, trailing under his abdomen and treacherously close to his cock. He willed himself not to react, to focus on the cold paste being spread on his skin and not on the touch itself. Possessed by a god or not, she would never let him live it down if he got aroused from her touch.

            Gritting his teeth, he shoved it down, willing himself to think about anything other than her touch on his skin. He thought about icy lakes high in the mountains, about the first snow fall of winter, about anything other than the slender fingers touching him. He still hissed softly when she drew the marks back onto his ass. “Are you serious?” he demanded.

            “They have a plan for you, Cullen,” she whispered. “It’s long and isn’t going to be easy…but there’s no one else that they trust with it. Only you…and her.”

            His head snapped around to look at her. Those last two words were said so softly he’d nearly missed them. “Her?” he repeated. “Who?”

            Pale eyes blinked up at him. “What?”

            Shit. Whatever the gods were whispering to her wasn’t something they wanted him to know about and he got the feeling that Olivia even slipping out that much was more than they wanted. The gods always let their people live their lives as they would. Clearly he was meant to be with _someone_ given the marks she was tracing on him once again. And there was no promise that the one he was going to be with would be part of the gods’ plan for him. It would make sense if she was but it wasn’t a guarantee.

            Although, he had bigger problems than whether or not the gods had a woman that was meant to be with him. Like a clan ready to tear itself apart at a moment’s notice. “How am I supposed to do this?” he said softly.

            Hawke paused and straightened to look at him. “You trust your augur, you trust your gods,” she said firmly. “You put your faith in your clan and they will return it.”

            Cullen stared at her, wondering if it was her or the god talking to him. “How do I trust a clan when half of them don’t even want me to be Thane?”

            “You figure out who you can trust and make those bonds stronger. The bad ones will do as they will.”

            The clan was still going to be split. Him becoming Thane was supposed to help with those problems, not make them more pronounced.

            “It is coming whether you will it or not, Cullen. The best you can do is hold fast against it, gather _your_ clan to you and you will persevere.”

            “That would mean splitting it further,” he stressed.

            “What do the healers do with something that is festering, Cullen?” she asked softly. “You lance it and let it bleed, you let the bad go and you are left with the clean, with what will heal you and the clan. “

            “So I let the clan fester and possibly tear itself apart in the process?”

            She was quiet for a long moment her fingers trailing down along his thigh before she stepped back. “Those that want this clan to endure, that want you, Cullen Ar Sorcha, to endure will dig in and support you. Those are the ones that will rebuild Sky-Bear Hold and we will not let you fall.”

            Cullen stared at her, unsure if that was Hawke or the gods. When she took a long step back from him, he realised she was done, that he was marked and it was Anya’s turn.

            “Wait,” Hawke said, holding out her hand to Anya as she made to come over before she pointed at a mirror in the corner. “Look.”

            He didn’t hesitate, crossing to the mirror. He nearly stumbled back as he saw what she had traced onto him, the lines shimmering slightly from her magic. They curled down his arm, arching and twisting to his elbow. Half of his chest was covered in them before they spiraled down his ribs. His upper thigh had sharp lines that met with the ones trailing over his groin and he knew if he turned, he’d see the same pattern along his back. “I…Is it usually like this?” he whispered.

            “Not often,” Anya said quietly, “but sometimes the gods take a special liking to their Thane. Which they seem to have done with you.”

            “Why?” he said, his voice breaking. “I come from no line of Thanes, I know little of ruling.”

            “You know how to manage hunters. Even if you weren’t next to become Master of the Hunt, Teodoir would have trained you how to manage them. Treat the hold like your hunters, like the hunting parties you lead into the woods. It isn’t that different.”

            Cullen swallowed but before he turned away from the mirror he caught Hawke’s gaze. Her eyes were bright, brimming with both her magic and the gods’. They had chosen him, out of all the ones that could be Thane they had picked him, son of the Master of the Hunt. Inhaling deeply, he knew there was no going back. He was committing to this. These were his people and he would be damned before he let them fall.

            Hawke smiled slowly. “Thane,” she said, bowing her head to him.

            “I’m ready,” he said firmly, moving back to the fire. “Sky-Bear Hold is mine.”


End file.
